


cool out

by sevenzeroseven



Category: Thunderbolt Fantasy 東離劍遊紀 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 02:13:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18511828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenzeroseven/pseuds/sevenzeroseven
Summary: Lang saw how terrible it looked, like the reanimated corpses they’d already encountered. This wasn’t necromancy, so this wasn’t something necromancy could fix. It was worse. Unknown.And Shang was expecting him to believe Lin could fix the unknown?





	cool out

In the firelight, Lang could see the disease clearly, black veins snaking up Shang’s collar like cracks in a vase—and that wasn’t the worst of it. The death-touched pallor, the blood-splattered sleeve, the slight tremor in his left hand when it reached toward the flames and shot back again.

Lang saw how terrible it looked, like the reanimated corpses they’d already encountered. This wasn’t necromancy, so this wasn’t something necromancy could fix. It was worse. Unknown.

And Shang was expecting him to believe Lin could fix the unknown? Did Shang believe it himself? Lang snorted, and Ling Ya’s voice crackled through the silence to supplement him.

“Hm? What’s up, Lang my man?”

He didn’t answer, but his grip on the pipa’s body tightened. His fingers stuttered across the strings, nail armor plucking out a few disjointed notes against his will.

“You should eat.”

Shang’s voice carried across the camp fire as if from a distance. He probably sounded fine to the casual bystander, but Lang could hear the softness and fatigue, like a flickering light about to go out.

“Not hungry,” he gritted between clenched teeth and readjusted his hold.

Ling Ya hummed skeptically. It was less a response to the statement than the tension in his limbs. He knew what Lang burned to discuss, so he sighed and started for him.

“Oi, about this cure we’re lookin’ for—“

Lang’s hand snapped up to block Ling Ya’s mouth. “There is none,” he continued bluntly. Whether or not Shang wanted to hear it, whether or not he'd believe it, he _needed_ to hear it. Lang held his expression steady, but his eyes skirted to the side at the last second. “Lin Xue Ya doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

When Shang didn’t answer, Lang pressed on. “He’s sending us on a wild goose chase.”

The world had seemed to go silent in the aftermath of disaster. Lang’s voice rang in his own ear, unaccompanied by the usual rustling of wind through leaves and insects through brush. Only the crackling of fire broke the uneven cadence of his words, bolstering him like flint to tinder. He stood midway through the sentence as if standing would get his point across better.

“And at the end, we—“

He faltered and frowned. The crux of what he was saying suddenly escaped him. Or rather, his head was refusing to put it into words. To make it concrete.

“We don’t even know if—“

Lang choked on the sentence like a rock had lodged in his throat. Anger—at himself, at the situation, at Lin, at _Shang_ —clawed its way up his windpipe. He bit off the unfinished thought with a growl and angled his body away from the licks of warmth and Shang sitting calmly on the other side.

A beat of silence passed before Ling Ya interrupted. “I think what this guy’s trying to say is it might be better to ditch the pipe bastard and work on a contingency plan.”

“Contingency plan, huh?” Shang’s voice came out stronger this time with a breath of laughter in the undertow. Lang bristled.

“You two have one?”

“Well...” Ling Ya continued.

Shang sighed and scratched his nose. “Look, I get where you’re coming from—I do—but the thing is..." He shook his head. "I already knew.”

“You already _knew_?” Indignation flared in his tone if not his expression as Lang jerked around to face the other.

“Yeah. Lin never had a cure to begin with.”

Lang recovered faster from the revelation than he'd expected and with it came cold fury like waves breaking upon the shore. He stepped around the blaze and saw the light dance across Shang’s sallow complexion, highlighting the sickly demeanor he'd been trying to hide for the better part of the day.

“Without a cure, he let _this_ happen.” His right hand shot out to grab Shang’s wrist before he could overthink.

“Oi, Lang!”

It was weak resistance at best, just a flick of his wrist in the opposite direction, before all his stamina seemed to give out. He let his arm hang limply in Lang's grip. Neither of them said anything for a moment. Even if Shang tried to deny the severity, it was impossible with the evidence before them. The dressing wound across Shang's forearm had turned black with diseased blood. From there, the inky veins climbed up his bicep and disappeared into the remnants of his shredded sleeve.

There was nothing left to say.

"Lang."

Shang yanked his arm aside, and Lang finally let go.

"Shang, you're looking pretty rough there! Can you even move around like that?"

Shang's eyes flickered to the pipa then back to his all but useless limb. "Well enough." Shang shrugged. "Better than what I could've under Xie Ying Luo's poison. It's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" Lang snorted. He paused ever so slightly and added, "You still trust him."

"It's not about trust." Shang fixed him with a hard stare that lasted for all of two seconds before softening around the edges. "I just know how he thinks."

Shang turned his gaze to the flames and watched them for a moment. His good hand slowly rose to rub the back of his swollen, discolored one. "That guy needs people to have his fun. He wouldn't ignore something like this. Though, that doesn't mean he needs to give a damn about the people who've already turned. He just needs to keep it from spreading." He scoffed lightly.

Lang opened his mouth to protest, but Shang cut him off.

"Lang, those villagers. You felt it too, right? It's not the same as cutting down walking corpses. They're still _alive_. If they're still alive—" Shang stood. "There must be a way to save them."

He pivoted and crossed the distance Lang had put between them. Lang refrained from retreating, displeasure etched into his posture. He avoided meeting Shang's eyes up until the older man grabbed his shoulder. His grip was bruising but firm and steady. "I'll be fine. The thing with Lin is that he's lazier than he looks. If he can avoid doing something himself, he will. This?"

Shang flapped the arm at his side. "Consider it motivation. Don't let him know though. He'll try harder if he doesn't."

With that, Shang stepped around him. "You don't have to trust him, but trust me."

Lang watched Shang teeter to where they left their bedrolls, words dissolving into a rattling cough, and felt the fight leave him all that once. Ling Ya hummed skeptically again. This time, his only response was a downward strum. He _did_ trust Shang. As for Lin, well. Lang lifted his head toward the direction in which the thief had disappeared over an hour ago and gritted his teeth. He'd wait and see.

**Author's Note:**

>  _kingdom_ is a rly good historical zombie show ԅ(‾⌣‾ԅ)


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